


Broken Barriers

by snarechan



Category: Transformers, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Canon - Comics, Dreamwave, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-30
Updated: 2009-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time is meant to be linear, straight lines stretching forwards, and when they are bent, this is what happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Barriers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nri_ennui](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nri_ennui).



> Done for Nri because...well, why the hell not? She's made of hilarity, leprechaun seed oil and puppy dog tails, and a lady of that sophisticated caliber deserves to be spoiled rotten! This was intended to just be about the Fallen, but the path I was going with wasn't working, so I extended it. If this makes sense to you, then put down the bong, and prepare for me to ravish your canon. :V

There is something universally important placed on time, probably because it affects all parts of the universe in some way. No matter the stretch of it, or how minor a change or great a rift, lifetimes of study and intrigue have been invested into its greatness, with such things as the signs of growing up and growing old being documented and taken in. Some accept its passage gracefully, and some curse it like an inevitable plague, but regardless of which side of the clock the galaxies and those who inhabit them fall on, there is a renowned respect.

Nothing lasts, and the passage of time is not immune to its own ticking. Even should it cease to exist – a seemingly unthinkable consideration – there is a vast significance that will linger, for its absence is granted admiration in the form of the silence created by those who can no longer experience it. But time does not end, it just begins anew, the calendar starting at ground zero and propelling forward. No one likes to consider such outcomes, and so no one speaks of a possibility in which all that was strived for can be undone.

Perhaps that was the reason for their undoing.

* * *

Outer space is empty and full, beautiful and ugly, creative and destructive, made up of infinite possibilities and uncountable ends. The region thrives on being a birth place of miracles, and housing things yet to be discovered. It’s the perfect spot for the possible and impossible to occur alike. There are stars that glow from across the way, suns that burn, moons that circle planets of unique makes…

Oh, and gaping black portals of despair. It wasn’t supposed to exist _here,_ of course. It was predicted to remain closed and dormant forever, a cage for a monster that many dare not contemplate still having roped in their very own backyard. Interesting how that works.

The gate did not burst into existence with any fanfare, or appear with equal dramatic flair of any sort. Instead, one moment it was not there, and then it just was, a speck that hardly glowed bright enough to require notice. The process of its existence was agonizingly slow and dull, expanding at a rate that billions of species would not have lived long enough to take in. It didn’t appear to be noteworthy, minding its own business and shining a flickering orange along the edges.

When it reached a size to at least become perceived as something unordinary, its black insides blocked what dared linger behind it and ripped apart the very fabric of time around it. Were it possible for noise to travel through the dead air, the sounds of movement would have echoed forth and traveled across the galaxy, but as it stood, there was only a sense of quiet that still managed to portray a sense of warning.

From it came a whirlwind, as black as the rest of the black things had been thus far, made up of mystical particles. They drifted out in a warbled mess, barely managing to congeal close enough to remain a floating mass that resembled locusts, before twirling into a giant ball. Gradually, they began to glimmer, starting at light yellows, and ending with a bang of vibrant white. In the place that this had happened was left a form, covered in flames and dark armor.

The Fallen had returned, though he wasn’t sure how.

He raised his helm, connecting with optics ablaze with such sinister contempt that he could have sworn he was gazing directly into his own. Vector Prime, currently adorned in armor laced with black instead of white, fire instead of gold, had apparently gotten a makeover in his absence, and he was unsure if he was exactly opposed to the idea. Getting an explanation might aid in that decision making, he was sure.

 _What did I miss?_ he inquired dryly, straightening himself and testing his returned form. It felt to be in order, and he tried out his movements by beginning to circle the other. _It would look as if I have missed many an interesting development._

 _The Tormentor wishes to see you, and thus it shall be,_ his brother replied, remaining in place, but not allowing himself to lose sight of the Fallen’s position. The glowing, green sword Vector Prime grasped indicated exactly what he would do should he try to escape his notice and attempt an attack, not that it daunted him.

 _Who-_

He was cut off as there was another explosion, this one far stronger in magnitude than his re-creation had been, which destroyed two nearby planets simultaneously with its strength. The matter that remained orbited what, at first glance, resembled another planet that had arrived. It could have easily posed as one, save for how it transformed into Primus himself, his spiked frame a murky shade of red and littered with the withering bodies of his children. There were billions of them, all crying out in various stages of agony, despair, and rage, clinging and scraping against him as they seemed in their death throes, but unable to perish.

 _Welcome, my new servant_ the god said unto him, a presence within his mind that demanded the attention of his very spark – what was left of it, at any rate – and yet nothing, for his presence in the face of such immense power was meaningless. His supremacy was beyond his comprehension, and furthermore, he understood in an instant without being informed that this was a god who was not even trying. He had destroyed two worlds and commanded attention without applying a single thought to the action, and should he attempt it, there was no knowing what destruction he was capable of.

It was both enlightening and inspiring. There was very little left that could impress the Fallen so, but this experience was turning into something even he was capable of admiring.

 _Welcome to my domain, and may you not disappoint me as we lay siege beyond the dimensions._

Unaware of where he was, or what exactly was going on, he was intrigued enough to stick around and find out.

-Fin-


End file.
